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ACT I i feel rained on cracked open left to bleed on pure white snow i feel raw yet i am in pain i am always in pain i am in so much pain i cannot tell if it is pain anymore i am in love ACT II is it known that i would rather bleed than cry i have so many secrets that are not mine they fill my mouth fall down my lips like i've sunk my teeth into ripened fruit they are omens they bite at the skin on my bones like locust the blood trickles to my feet there's so much there's so much there's so much there's so much im a ******* ACT III why didn't you try to replace the rocks in my chest with flowers did you know i was already gone ACT IV *** can be sweet in the back of a car nervous and tentative shaking hands against sweaty palms moving together touching at the same time we were warm ACT V not every living thing is necessarily alive i died eight days ago with my lungs collapsing on top of each other and my nails digging into my palms i shed my skin like the hair from last winter i clawed at the leaches gnawing at my bones the hardest part wasn't dying it was remembering that i was ever alive it was taking a lungful of air and exhaling the dust rattling around in my chest it was missing the sound the feeling of my heart beating against yours ACT VI i once had someone with skin like an angel she treated me like **** and smoked far too much but i guess i was the one with the problem because we broke up years ago yet sometimes i find myself smoking cigarettes trying to taste her again ACT VII "please," i begged, my knees scraping the ground, "let me fall out of love."
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
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ACT I i feel rained on cracked open left to bleed on pure white snow i feel raw yet i am in pain i am always in pain i am in so much pain i cannot tell if it is pain anymore i am in love ACT II is it known that i would rather bleed than cry i have so many secrets that are not mine they fill my mouth fall down my lips like i've sunk my teeth into ripened fruit they are omens they bite at the skin on my bones like locust the blood trickles to my feet there's so much there's so much there's so much there's so much im a ******* ACT III why didn't you try to replace the rocks in my chest with flowers did you know i was already gone ACT IV *** can be sweet in the back of a car nervous and tentative shaking hands against sweaty palms moving together touching at the same time we were warm ACT V not every living thing is necessarily alive i died eight days ago with my lungs collapsing on top of each other and my nails digging into my palms i shed my skin like the hair from last winter i clawed at the leaches gnawing at my bones the hardest part wasn't dying it was remembering that i was ever alive it was taking a lungful of air and exhaling the dust rattling around in my chest it was missing the sound the feeling of my heart beating against yours ACT VI i once had someone with skin like an angel she treated me like **** and smoked far too much but i guess i was the one with the problem because we broke up years ago yet sometimes i find myself smoking cigarettes trying to taste her again ACT VII "please," i begged, my knees scraping the ground, "let me fall out of love."
nichole-c
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
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